


With Or Without You

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Canon, Drama, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-07
Updated: 2005-06-01
Packaged: 2018-12-29 02:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 13,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12072885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: After Justin comes back from LA, Brian decides that their relationship is over.  Can they find their way back to one another?





	1. Better Off

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

“What is it this time, Brian?” Justin asked curtly as he crossed his arms defensively across his chest. 

Brian sighed, not wanting to have a long discussion about what he thought had been a long time coming. So, he just decided to let Justin have his tirade and then he could get back to his life.

“Tell me. Did we grow apart? Are we incompatible? Irreconcilable differences? After all the shit we have been through, you’re just giving up on me? On us? Don’t you have anything to say?” The tears in Justin’s eyes threatened to fall, and he didn’t care. 

Brian stared blankly back at him, his jaw clenching and unclenching at Justin’s words.

“You know what Brian, I am tired of being the only one who fights for us. In the beginning, I followed you like a puppy dog until you gave in and let me be a part of your life. I tried to make it work with you after the bashing, I begged you to make any kind of commitment to me. Then, when I came back to you after Ethan, I had to nearly push you down and force myself back into your life, and literally had to do it after I found out about your cancer. I went to LA and came back to you, I wanted us to pick up where we left off. And now, I can’t do it anymore because you aren’t even willing to try. You called me your partner. But, partners take on equal responsibility fighting to keep the relationship alive. Ours has been flat- lining for a while and I just didn’t want to admit it so, I guess you’re right… it is ‘for the best’”. Justin wiped the free streaming tears from his cheeks and kissed Brian softly on the lips. “I’ll be by tomorrow after you’ve gone to work to pack up my things. Goodbye, Brian.” 

Brian held his ground, barely flinched when Justin kissed him or said ‘goodbye’ with a startling monotone that he had never heard the young man use before. Justin took his coat and walked out the door, closing it slowly behind him. Brian stood their letting out a breath and thinking ‘I did the right thing, he’s better off without me. Better off without me. Better off without me…”


	2. Ever Again

Justin

I knew this time was real. He didn’t yell or physically throw me out like in the past. He just used this level tone; a rational, steady tone and I knew it. This is what he wanted, he was telling me the truth, he wanted out. He wanted me gone. 

And to show him that I understood, I adopted his tone and told him ‘goodbye’. In that single word, I was telling him that after I walked out the door I wouldn’t be sitting on the stairs waiting for him, pounding on the door incessantly, or leaving him dozens of voice- mails. I was right though, I am sure of that. I am happy that I could be as articulate as I was in the given situation. 

But, I can’t be the Brian and Justin crusader forever. I am worn out, dragged out and fed up. I am sick of being the one who apologizes and accepts. I walked on eggshells around that man for years; just waiting for the next time I would be booted out on my ass. I can’t be the one who battles and pushes him to become the man I know he can be, that he is deep down. Because when he said, “I think this is for the best.” I knew I couldn’t fight any longer. I couldn’t give up my pride for the millionth time and beg him to keep me around. I knew that if I had, I would be living with the thought that maybe he didn’t want me there with him. 

Every other time I was certain that it was just more commitment- phobia bullshit, it was him trying to push back at the thought of being tied down. I don’t know any more, and that scared the shit out of me. I couldn’t read anything on his face or in his voice. His demeanor, which I could once so easily interpret, was devoid of emotion. His eyes were stone and I couldn’t glimpse doubt in them as he said his piece. He has to come after me this time, I can’t regress back to high school. I can’t be that kid with no self-respect, chasing after a hot guy. But, most importantly, he has to want me. I want to be wanted, I need to be. 

I am just so fucking angry, frustrated. That man can make me so insane, I am surprised that Daphne hasn’t tried to check me into the psych ward at Allegany General yet. I go back to him repeatedly, like I am a glutton for the Brian Kinney punishment. I know that I am not the only one that has been sucked into the cycle of pain and disappointment that I have. Michael is the most obvious example. They have known each other for more than twenty years, and Michael is more than willing to play Brain’s games most of the time. Though lately, Brian has been pushing Michael away as well. 

God, I hope he is all right. I worry that he is going to self-destruct one of these days, hit rock bottom. I mean, if he is pushing his best friend and partner away, there has to be a reason, right? Maybe he is hurting over something that he can’t control. Brian hates not having control and will counteract by severely controlling everything he has the ability to. Shit, maybe his cancer reoccurred or Kinnetik isn’t doing well. Maybe his mother again, she can always seem to find the most incapacitating nerve to pinch. 

But, most likely it is Brian having a mental inventory. He is losing his battle with age, all that means is, he continues to get older. He has become too domesticated and can’t stand living like a dyke. He is too far into everything in his life, and the only way he knows how to reverse that is to take his chips off the table. Of course, the mid-life crisis that he seems to have twice a year could be to blame. 

I just wish I could think about something else, even for a second. I want to escape from my reality, be someone other than me. I want to be a regular guy, one without the baggage and drama. I want to get away from all this shit, if only for a little while. I know what Brian’s answer would be: a whiskey, a hit, and a trick. None of those seem appealing right now. I don’t want to deal with my pain the same way he does his. So, I will stay here with my thoughts. The very same thoughts that I would love to stop creating. Because maybe if I feel the pain when it is acute and stinging, I will remember why I can’t fall at his feet again. Why I have to be a grown up and respect his wishes, no matter how fucked up his motives are. Why I must accept the fact that maybe I will never touch him or kiss him ever again. Ever again…


	3. Fade Away

Brian

It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. He didn’t cry. Much. He didn’t yell or beg me to keep him. In other words, it could have been worse. I am an amazing pitchman; I can sell anyone with my words. Justin is no different. All the times I tried to make him understand me though actions obviously didn’t work. But this time, he heard me loud and clear. And he isn’t coming back, I could tell. He isn’t going to suddenly appear at Kinnetik tomorrow or just happen to show up where he knows I’ll be. He understood the point I was trying to get across. I don’t want him around anymore. I don’t want to be a part of a couple. 

I want to get back to my life, my life before Justin. The time when I didn’t disappoint anyone, because no one expected anything. Those were the days. I did whatever I wanted and everyone just shook their heads, but didn’t try to stop me. I am finally starting to pry Michael off of me. He can be suffocating, stifling. I can just be myself now, the arrogant prick that doesn’t have to answer to anyone. I am craving the freedom that I haven’t had in what seems like forever. I miss the autonomy to make my decisions without thinking about how it will affect every fucking person I know. That is the life I want again. 

I know that I hurt Justin, I know that. But, it is the right thing. I am better off without the ball and chain. I can’t be tied down. I need to fuck and be moody and not care. He anticipated too much from me. He thought I was a better person than I am. He wanted me to be someone I could never be. And even though he tried his best to accept me, he always tried to mold me. He had higher expectations, bigger plans for me than I ever had for myself. I can’t let him go though more of my shit. I am sure he has had enough, fuck sometimes I can’t stand me. Why did he put up with it for so long? I can tell when he is unhappy or uneasy and that is what he was becoming more and more lately. So, it was a good thing that I ended it. 

But, I need to get out of this rut. I want new haunts and new experiences, a different perspective of life. In advertising terms, I want to be new and improved. My definition of improvement is different from the rest of the world, but fuck them! That isn’t a bad way to start, come to think. I can be the stud of liberty once again, fuck my brains out and not have to worry about Justin’s sad expression when I choose someone over him. I don’t want to hear about what a shit I am from Michael or Deb because Justin is mad at me. I don’t want those, ‘what did you do this time?’ looks from my circle of friends. I want to be a free man, free from all that drama. 

I can have the solitude I want. I can be alone in my loft without anyone just barging in. I can focus on work and really make Kinnetik soar to new heights. I don’t have to think about being home at a reasonable hour so my boyfriend doesn’t get upset. Why hadn’t I thought of this before? Now I am completely convinced that I did the right thing. Justin can get on with his life and I can get on with mine. He can get over me and move on to someone who will give him the things that I am just not capable of giving. And I can go back to being the true me. All I have to do is get rid of this feeling in my gut and in my chest. It will fade with time, it has before. It’ll fade away…


	4. Keep Breathing

Justin put his key into the door and unlocked the deadbolt. He slid the door open and closed it behind him. He put down the boxes he had brought on the hard wood floor and went up to the bedroom. To his surprise Brian was still at home, sleeping in bed. He stopped for a second, weighing his options. He could quickly pack up everything and hope that Brian was passed out cold or he could rush out and come back tomorrow. But, deciding to be mature about it, he stayed. If this is how Brian wanted it, then it was fine with Justin. 

Justin made his way to the bathroom and removed all of his toiletries from the counter and cabinet. Catching his reflection in the mirror, Justin noted that he looked like hell. Eyes still red from the tears that fell then night before and the grimace that he wore made him feel even worse, if that was possible. The nostalgia that he felt for the shower went unexplored. There was no way he would allow himself to have flashbacks of his times with Brian. Not now anyway. Then, he heard Brian beginning to stir in the next room. Every part of him wished that he had taken the second option and just left. But, now he had no escape. So, instead of making a mad dash, he took a deep breath and walked into the bedroom. He opened a duffle bag from the closet and began to fill it with clothes, shoes, and other random items. Brian turned over and shook his head as if he were trying to physically clear his mind. The older man couldn’t remember the last time he had been that drunk and definitely didn’t remember how he got home and into bed. The first thing he saw when his opened his eyes was Justin.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you. I thought you’d be at work. I can come back later if you want.” Justin offered as he stopped packing for a moment and waited for a reaction.

“Yeah, I mean no. This is fine.” Brian responded as he began to climb out of bed with a groan. 

Justin noticed that he was wearing pajama bottoms. He didn’t even think that Brian owned that article of clothing. He took his gaze off of Brian and resumed his task, wanting it to be done as soon as possible. Diligently, he placed each piece into the bag until it was filled beyond capacity. Brian got up and walked to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Justin took the time to collect himself so he didn’t start to cry or worse, begin to argue with Brian. There wasn’t a fraction of his heart that didn’t want to grab a hold of Brian and never let him go. In this situation, Justin knew that his head was the only part of himself that he could trust not to throw himself onto his lover. He heard the toilet flush and the door open. Brian emerged, still appearing very tired and hung over. 

“Want some help?” Brian asked, his voice groggy from sleep.

“No, I got it.” Justin returned with a half smile.

Brian walked to the kitchen and began to turn on the coffee maker. When it sputtered at him, he opened it to find that it was empty. Justin usually set it up at night so they would have an easier time in the morning. And it was Justin who decided to rearrange the kitchen a few weeks ago. Brian silently cursed himself and began to look around for coffee filters.

“Third cabinet from the left, second shelf.” Justin called from the bedroom without looking up.

Brian opened the suggested cabinet and found it immediately.

“Thanks.” Brian replied as he gathered the grounds and filters from their spot.

Justin was got most of his stuff into boxes by the time the coffee was finished brewing. He put them by the door and took a glance around the loft to see if he had missed anything that he could take with him today. There was his computer, bigger canvases and easel to be considered, but he figured he could come back another day for those.

“Coffee?” Brian asked suddenly, snapping Justin from his thoughts.

“No, I’m okay.” Justin replied. “I’ll be back for some other stuff later, if that is all right.”

Brain nodded his head and sipped his coffee at the counter. In a matter of minutes, Justin had his boxes on the lift and began to get ready to go. At the door he stopped and turned around. He walked over to the kitchen counter only a foot or two from where Brian was standing. Brian was sure that this was when the scene was going to take place, the scene he had been dreading. But, Justin simply unhooked two keys from his key ring, set them on the counter next to Brian’s coffee cup and walked out the door. Brian stared at the key and took a deep breath in. Keep breathing, he thought, keep breathing...


	5. Even More

Brian 

It is Friday night; a week and a half after Justin and I called it quits. Well, since I called it quits for the both of us. And I am getting ready to go out, but not to Babylon. I am sick of the sight of that place. I have been there every night for eleven days straight. Also, I can’t seem to erase what memories I have of the backroom with… never mind. I just heard of a new club opening in a town about a half hour away. I know it is a long way to drive just to get tweaked out and fuck. However, if I have to run into Michael, Ted, Emmett, Ben or anyone else for that matter, I am going to fucking lose it.

I choose to wear a sleeveless black v-neck and black [leather pants](http://astele.co.uk/BJfic/Chapter/Details/leather%20pants) with matching boots. Justin used to call it my ‘fuck me hard’ outfit and if memory serves it not only worked on him, but also on five other lucky patrons of Babylon that evening. And that is exactly what I want tonight. Some good, hard fucking to get me back on track. I muss with my hair to make certain that I look as hot as I feel right now. I feel like a new man, a very desirable, sexy new man. The best kind, I’d say. I glance in the full-length mirror, taking in the whole view of myself. I have been working out almost as much as I’ve been tricking lately, and it shows. That new trainer at Ript not only gives excellent head, he is really sculpting my arms and abs. I will have to sign up for another session, both kinds of workouts of course. I give myself the once over again and refuse to notice the ever-worsening wrinkles by my mouth and the darker pigment under my eyes. I grab my Boss jacket, wallet and keys before head out the door. 

Less than an hour later, I pull up to the new club, Anarchy. I park a few blocks away from the entrance and walk to the head of the line. The bouncer points to the back of the line without a second look as he ushers in two twenty-something twinks. I sigh heavily and pull out the VIP pass that I procured from one of my connections and wave it in the bouncer’s face. He grabs it, as if he wants to test the authenticity of the pass. I tap my foot impatiently, waiting for him to just let me in the fucking club. The pass is handed back to me and he opens the velvet rope so I can enter. 

I check my jacket and find that the place is packed with every young gay guy this side of the Mississippi. But, the best thing I notice so far is that I don’t recognize anyone. I am a total stranger to every man here. I decide to take a lap around the perimeter, to get a feel for the club. I note the décor of the space is much more upscale than Babylon, not all steel and lights. There is a dim section where couches and tables are lined up next to a black-tinted glass bar. The dance floor is huge and alive with shirtless queers. It also has those tiles on some portions of the floor where the lights underneath illuminate. A little cheesy, yes, but it is better than cum covered concrete. The go-go boy dancers have pedestals, just like Babylon, but they are suspended from the ceiling instead resting on the floor. With the bar and the dance floor found, the last thing on my list is what I drove thirty minutes for, the backroom. I look around for some kind of corridor or doorway hidden in a wall. I spy the bathrooms, the staircase to the second floor and another, smaller bar, but no backroom. 

I decide to head up stairs to the second level to see if I have better luck there. When my foot hits the fifth step I begin to recognize a familiar sound and smell. Moans, grunts and screams fill my ears while sweat and cum fills my nostrils. Now that is what I am talking about. I begin to realize that the entire second floor is an orgy room. Furnished with couches, chairs, and restraints. There are even some cubes sectioned off for privacy. I walk up the rest of the staircase and survey the scene. A gorgeous brunette twink comes over and whispers in my ear that he wants me to fuck him. I smile as he pulls down his pants and drags me over to an empty couch. And all I can assume right now is, I think I am going to love it here. But, in the back of my consciousness I am thinking that Justin would love it even more than I do. Even more…


	6. After Everything

Justin

Two weeks and no Brian. I have been without him before, so it isn’t like I am new at this. It is just, every other time, I felt like I had the upper hand. Like leaving him for Ethan and going to LA. Fuck, even when he kicked me out after the cancer revelation I knew I had more power than I do now. 

The first five days I thought I might just evaporate into thin air because there wasn’t anything left inside me. I was catatonic, sitting and staring at nothing, completely numb. But, that was to be expected. Days six through eight were my philosophical stage. I must have sounded like the guy from the Karate Kid. ‘Brian is like a wild animal, he can’t be put into a replicated habitat and be content. He will always try to break out so he can run free, no matter how well the zoo keepers treated him.’ The ninth through the thirteenth were crying days, the days of sheer devastation. I was inconsolable. Poor Daph. I don’t know why she puts up with me sometimes. But, I am so relieved that she does. She is always there with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s or Guiness (depending on the situation). She has a tissue, a ridiculous movie or a warm hug and smile on hand. What more could a gay boy ask for? Oh yeah, a partner that doesn’t kick him out semiannually. 

I can already tell that day fourteen, my two-week marker, is the beginning of my angry phase. The signs are all there. It is the first time that I don’t want Brain to call, I am afraid of what I would say to him. He is such a fucking asshole. A selfish, arrogant, emotionally stunted prick. I cannot wrap my head around the fact that we have been through the ringer so many times, and he doesn’t understand that the only place I want to be is with him. He always thinks that I will be happier without him. It just isn’t true. All of this introspection is tiring. I haven’t slept in days, not well anyway. I can’t make my mind stop, it keeps going even after my body shuts down.

I shake off my feelings so I can get ready for class. I only have a year or so left and I will finally have my degree. I can’t wait until I am a college graduate, standing there in my cap and gown with my diploma. Brian is still picking up the tab for PIFA. I wish that I didn’t have to rely on him so much. But, most of all I hate that I rely on him for my happiness. It is just no use fighting it though; he makes me happy. He makes me more determined and focused, more confident and centered. Simply, he makes me better. 

When I get off the bus at my stop, I take a deep breath and head to my surrealist seminar. I come in a few minutes late and the only seat available in the large lecture hall is in the middle of the fourth row. I hate disturbing everyone in the middle of a class, because they have shift their legs and books so I can scoot by. I detest the looks that I receive when I finally shuffle to my seat, that holier than thou glare. I want to scream a collective ‘Fuck off’ to my fellow students, but I refrain. I lose myself in the slides that are being shown on the screen. I don’t even notice when the student sitting next to me bumps my elbow to hand me the sign in sheet.

He finally clears his throat and says, “Hey!” in a hushed tone. I snap out of my art coma and smile apologetically as I take the clipboard from his hand. I glance at him and my gaydar goes off, then I realize that he is very attractive. I don’t want to stare so I begin to sign the sheet. I look down and notice his name, the one before mine on the list: Tristan Davison. I always loved that name; it reminds me of the movie Legends of the Fall, which of course reminds me of Brad Pitt on horseback, which awakens my libido. I shift my books to my lap to hide my Brad inspired hard-on and turn my eyes back to the screen.

After class I walk to the lounge to get some coffee, so I can maybe wake up and resemble a living being. Someone taps me on the shoulder as I stand in line. I twist my body to see who it was. 

“Hey.” He says with a smile. “I’m in your surrealist lecture. I’m--”

“Tristan Davidson.” I finish as I shake the hand he offered. He looks perplexed or freaked out, I can’t decide which. “Justin Taylor. I saw your name on the sign in sheet.”

“Oh, duh. I should have figured.” He says with a slight blush.

We stand in silence for an uncomfortable moment or two until he continues. “I just wanted to know if you wanted to get coffee with me sometime.”

“We’re getting coffee right now.” I point out jokingly.

Instead of blushing again, as I expected, he smirks and says, “No time like the present.”

I nod my head as the girl behind the counter calls for the next customer. We walk up and order our drinks. As we go to find a seat, I can’t help feel like I am cheating on Brian. It is stupid to think that way, but I can’t stop myself. Whether I like it or not (more like whether he likes it or not), Brian is a part of me still, even after everything.


	7. Near By

Brian walked into the diner for the first time in week. And by his count, Justin had been gone for three weeks and five days. Before he had even thought to come to the Liberty diner, he made sure Deb wasn’t working; he didn’t need her comments right then. Justin should be at the PIFA studios for his independent study, so there was little chance of running into him either. Brian took a seat at the near end of the counter and busied himself with reading the menu that he had memorized years early. He waited patiently for someone to come and take his order, he understood that he had arrived in the middle of the lunch rush and it might take a few minutes extra. Just as Brian lifted his arm and turned his neck to relax out the eternal kink he kept there, Justin emerged from the kitchen. Brian was frozen in his position, one hand behind his head and his neck turned at an awkward angle. 

The first thing Brian noticed was that Justin looked great. His hair was a little shaggier than the last time he had seen him, it was probably only an eighth of an inch, but Brian saw it. Justin was sporting a long sleeve red shirt that looked like it had splashes of darker red paint across it, black pants, and Puma’s. And even though Brian was wearing his Armani power suit and Gucci shoes, he felt like Justin had him beat a thousand times over on how good he looked. Justin set down two plates of food at a back booth, but stayed longer than usual to talk to the patrons sitting down. 

Both of the customers were college-aged boys, attractive, and obviously gay. One of the young men said something to Justin that made him laugh out loud. And it was a real laugh, not his polite ‘haha’ chuckle. It was a laugh that ignited his patented sunshine smile that Brian had once thought seemed to be mostly reserved for him. But, what was burned into Brian’s eyes was the sight of the customer to the right of the blonde, placing his hand over Justin’s and letting it linger. The worst part was, however, Justin wasn’t pulling away. Brian’s blood began to boil and his whole body tensed at mere glimpse of Justin with someone else. 

Brian didn’t notice that Betty had been trying to get his attention for probably a full minute. She finally shook him on the shoulder and looked at him strangely. Brian shook his head to assure her he was fine. He ordered a coffee to go, hoping he could make a quiet exit before Justin noticed his presence. And for some reason, he wasn’t so hungry anymore. He tapped his fingers impatiently as Betty brewed a fresh pot for him.

Once Justin finished talking with the young men at the booth, he turned around. His facial expression looked like he had smelled something in the air that alerted him to Brian’s company. Brian turned at the same moment and their eyes met. Justin smiled ruefully, but sweetly nonetheless and mouthed the word, “Hey”. Brian pursed his lips and nodded in response. Justin moved onto the next table and took their order. After that, he disappeared into the kitchen again.

Justin went over to a stool in the back by the side door. He slunk down and closed his eyes, willing his body to stop trembling from the sheer sight of Brian. He took a couple of deep breaths, straightened his posture and walked out from the swinging door. Glancing to the stool where Brian had been, he felt conflicting emotions when he found it vacant. He was relieved and disappointed at the same time. It wasn’t until Tristan called him out of his thoughts that he even realized that he had been staring at the stool for a while. Justin smiled at his friend and sat down next to him in the booth and explained his behavior in three words.

“That was him.”

Tristan put an arm around Justin to help console the apparently frazzled young man. Justin sunk into the touch, just happy that someone was there to help him through another Brian- sighting. Tristan had become a great ally and strength to Justin in the past week and a half. He listened to Justin’s constant theories, memories, and thoughts about Brian without rolling his eyes or telling him to just get over it. And after one cup of coffee at PIFA, it had been clear as day to both of them that they would never be romantically linked. Justin equated his friendship with Tristan, to his friendship with Emmett. And Justin would NEVER consider fucking Emmett. 

Tristan kissed his temple and stroked his hair in a motherly way. Justin felt a little better, but his encounter with Brian had still left him shaken. In the past three and a half weeks, Justin had been talking about Brian like he lived on Mars or something. Maybe it just seemed that way because Brian felt so unattainable and far away. It never occurred to Justin just how small of a city Pittsburg is. And it definitely never entered his mind that Brian was so near by. But, Brian was in his heart and his mind so, Justin thought, he will always be near by…


	8. Looking Back

Justin

One month. Today equals one month without Brian. I am getting better. My stomach doesn’t drop at the thought of him. I am no longer irate, okay so I am a little pissed off still. But, I’ll shake that. My mind keeps flashing back to that day in the diner though. It is nice to know that we both have the same maturity level when it comes to our former relationship. At the sight of one another, we both bolted for the nearest exit. Maybe he’s not as over me as I thought- if he had to leave at my mere presence. Or he could have just been unprepared; I would usually be in class at that time if it weren’t for the holiday. I don’t even know what it was, Martian Luther King Jr., President’s or Flag Day- I really don’t have a clue. Anyway, maybe still, he couldn’t stand seeing me. He could be on to hating or detesting me. Whatever. Fuck it, I can’t think about it anymore. I am going to go crazy.

Besides, I have to go to the comic book store so I can work with Michael on the new issue. There may not be a movie deal any longer, but Rage still makes us good money in paper form. I arrive at Red Cape around lunchtime and it is obvious that Deb has already been there. Three huge containers full of food litter the countertop. Michael takes a bite of some pasta mixed with sausage and marinara sauce as he looks up at me when the bell over the door dings. He smiles and wipes the excess sauce off the corners of his mouth.

“Hi, did you bring the new boards?” He asks while clearing away some space by the register. 

I lift the storyboards in my hand to answer his question. I set them down and he inspects them like a doctor would with important test results.

“These are fantastic. I think this might be our best issue yet.” He says, seemingly mesmerized by the illustrations before him. “I can see the confusion and frustration on JT and Zepher’s faces.” I catch a concerned expression pass over his features.

“Well with your storyline how could I not draw them like that? Rage leaves behind everything in Gayopolis and rejects his powers and hero status?” I ask a little incredulously and continue, “Art imitating life?” I question almost smugly as he had once done to me.

“He avoids me, he hasn’t been to Babylon in weeks or the diner, he won’t return my calls or answer the door.” He states in an exasperated tone. 

“Last time I saw him, he was in the diner. When he laid eyes on me, he left so fast I was sure the there’d be a Brian-shaped hole in the wall.” I state with glum self-deprecation. 

“The only person he talks to is Ted and that is strictly in a work capacity. Linds says she hears from him once a week to check on Gus and that’s it. I am worried, Justin. What if he ‘accidentally’ tries to hurt himself again? I got there with only a minute to spare last time.”

“Last time?” I ask, suddenly very interested in Michael’s knowledge.

“Never mind.” He states a little too quickly.

I decide to let it drop because Brian isn’t supposed to be invading my mind anymore.

“Michael-” I begin to say, but he cuts me off.

“I don’t know why he is doing this: pushing everyone away, not calling, not acknowledging anyone. What are we going to do?” He asks a touch of desperation in his voice.

I almost cringe at the tone because I already know what I have to tell him. I have to say this so he doesn’t get the wrong idea about my position on the whole Brian debacle.

“I’m not DOING anything. It is his decision. I can’t chase him anymore, Michael. I did it for years. It’s his turn or he and I are over. Hell, we already are over.” 

Michael gives me his patented puppy-dog eyes; little does he know that they only work on Brian. I keep my face expressionless so Michael doesn’t think he can turn me into his cohort again. Much to my surprise, Michael and I have become pretty good friends. It’s not like we haven’t had our problems, fights, and grudges, because we have had plenty of those. But, we are close as business partners and lately, confidants. Usually when Brian is an ass, it only affects one of us. And in those situations, we are one another’s champion, standing up to Brian for the other. This time however, Brian has shoved the two of us away with equal force and determination. So, what Michael will inevitably say will not surprise me. He wants me to fight for Brian along side him. And typically I would, but not now. Too much has happened, my heart is too battered, broken. He pulls me out of my thoughts when he continues to persuade me, like I predicted he would. 

“I never thought the day would come when you’d say that. That is just not you, Justin. You are tenacious when it comes to Brian… relentless really.”

I have to be strong. I have to tell him.

“Well, not anymore. It has been a month and nothing. If that is Brian Kinney’s idea of love- then I don’t want it. Why would I beg him to come back after he made it perfectly, stunningly clear that he wants nothing to do with me?” I try my best to control the anger that is beginning to rise because of the subject.

“Brian doesn’t always know what is best for himself.” He says with intent. 

My mind flashes back to the night of the break-up. When Brian told me it was ‘for the best’. Michael’s words almost penetrate my thickened skin, but I choose to answer him sharply.

“No shit.” I can feel my face turn to a grimace. 

“Maybe we could-” He begins with certainty. 

“No, Michael. No more plans, schemes, or strategies. It is his move, he knows how I feel. I can’t keep shoving it in his face until he realizes and accepts it. I gotta go, tell me if the boards need work.” I say with finality, successfully ending our conversation. 

I swing my messenger bag over my shoulder and walk out of the shop without looking back. Just like I am trying to do with my relationship with Brian. Walk away without looking back.


	9. Back Down

Brian

I’m sitting at home tonight, so what? It isn’t like I am moping around like a lonely lesbian. I am just sick of the club scene. I went to Purgatory five times last week and I can’t remember four of them. Too much X and Jack, not a good combination when you have an 8am meeting the next morning. Therefore, after the worst hang over of my life, I chose to stay home tonight… and last night… and the night before. That is not an indication of anything other than bar fatigue. Fuck! I do not need to justify my actions in my own head. I am alone in my loft, just like I wanted to be. His shit isn’t strewn around and I’m not constantly annoyed with his questions: How was your day? Did you land that account like I knew you would? Are you hungry? Do you want to order out? Are we going out tonight? Why are you so quiet? Are you pissed at me? Silence- much more pleasant, more me. 

Maybe I’ll watch a movie. I don’t feel like watching porn. Christ, I never thought there’d be a time when that thought would cross my mind. And not Brando tonight, I know all the lines to ‘One Eyed Jacks’ anyway. I need to put something on. It really is quiet. My phone hasn’t rung yet tonight. Maybe everyone got a fucking clue and realized that this is how I want it. 

I really should redecorate. I’m a fag; it’s in my blood. A new dining table is a possibility, or a rug for the TV space. No. You did that the last time you started to miss him. What did Michael call the ‘vette? Oh yeah, ‘boyfriend replacement therapy’. Shit, what did I just let slip? I miss him? Did that really cross my mind? No, I am just having left over jealous feelings from that day in the diner. It must be natural to have those feelings after a breakup, right? I definitely don’t want to think about Justin having someone else so soon after we were over. But, good for him, I guess I want him to be happy. He deserves it after everything. I just REALLY didn’t like that guy touching him. It took all the mental strength I had not to go over and kick his ass. It is only during those times that I miss him so much it hurts. 

Fuck! I thought I buried that deep in my subconscious somewhere. I don’t think that I am ready to admit that. I’m a little out of my mind right now, yeah, I’m not thinking clearly. It is left over effects from the drugs last week. Maybe all the drugs I did in my youth. Youth, huh, youth is fickle and fleeting (learned that one the hard way). I am a thirty-something, one balled, emotionally stunted queer. The men at Purgatory are fuckable and all, yet they all seem a little off. Some of them didn’t even look my way, like they had no idea what someone my age would be doing there. Like they know that I am Brian Fucking Kinney. They saw me as older, as worn out. But, not Justin, never Justin. I will always be twenty-nine and perfect to him. 

Weird, I never realized that before. He has the same adoration in his eyes when he sees me now as he did when he was seventeen. And the juxtaposition is, there is no way I can look at him the same way. I mean, he is still a hot fuck, but he is so much more now. He is a man, more of one than I am. God Damn it! I hate feeling like this, like I fucked up something with one stupid move. I don’t do regrets. I am I think that I am beginning to regret this. I used to regret meeting Justin at all, especially after the bashing and when he left me for what’s-his-fuck. I was angry with him for disrupting my life. He made me feel things that I was ice cold to before him. He forced me to question things that I was so sure about. Like, who I was, what I wanted, and what I was capable of. And I hated him for it. He wanted so much from me, things I didn’t want to give him. But, as usual, his persistence paid off.

His persistence isn’t very present of late though. He hasn’t tried to contact me or run into me intentionally. He gave up on me. He finally gave up on me. I wondered how long it would take. How many times I could push him away until he would actually listen. Well I just got my answer and it is pissing me off! He always said that he was ‘on to me’ and that he wanted to be around, and then he gives the fuck up on me? That twat! Wait… he didn’t want to. I forced him to, gave him no other alternative. He told me that when he left. He asked me if I was giving up on ‘us’ and ‘him’. But, I guess what I was really giving up on was myself. I didn’t want my life to be hard anymore; I wanted it to be easy like it was before him. But, what I realize now is, it was empty, hollow. I was all bravado and ego, nothing solid, nothing sturdy. He leveled and balanced an impossible man- me.

Shit! How am I going to do this? Can I fix this now? First off, I need to stop pacing. No, the pacing helps me think, the pacing can stay. What am I going to have to do? He isn’t going to come back and plead his case this time. I can’t just accept him back like I did the times before. I have to go to him. I have to swallow my pride, I enjoy swallowing everything but that. He always makes it look so easy. Does he even want me after the things that I said? After the way I hurt him, can he really just forgive and forget? I guess I’ll have to find out. Now that I know what I want: I want him to come back home. I want him back here, with me. I finally see that he is worth it, he is worth fighting for. And I have never been one to just back down…


	10. Try Again

Babylon was alive with music, lights, and hundreds of young men dancing to the unrelenting beat. Brian stepped inside the hot space and all heads snapped to look at him. He received few head nods and smirks and more than a few appreciative glances from the patrons. He looked hot and of course he knew it. But, that was the only thing that he wasn’t worried about tonight. His hair was a little cleaner cut from the trip to the stylist early that day and his body glistened a golden brown from the tanning bed. He wore a deep green sleeveless pullover and black jeans. The trips to the gym had done wonders on his exposed arms, the line of his bicep a little more defined and thick. He made his way around the club to search out his prey. Tonight wasn’t about some nameless trick; tonight was about the trick that had earned a name and a title long ago. 

After a minute or two he spied the short blonde by the bar sipping a drink casually. Brian tried to be just as causal as he walked toward the neon lit counter. He came up right beside Justin and ordered a drink. 

“Double Jack Daniels.” Brian stated to the bartender as he turned to Justin. “Hey.” He said, still cool, not yet a wreck of nerves. 

Brian noticed that Justin looked simply gorgeous. His hair was tousled in an indifferent manner, but meticulously perfect at the same time. Justin’s black tight t-shirt hugged his petite frame, hinting at what lied beneath. The dirty wash jeans that hung low on his waist would expose a sliver of skin if he were to raise his arms or twist just right. 

“Hey.” Justin returned as he uncomfortably shifted his body to the left.

“Buy you another?” Brian asked with a smile in a semi flirtatious tone.

Justin looked him dead in the eye and raised an eyebrow in response. Brian signaled the bartender to bring another one for Justin and turned to him once more. 

“Big crowd tonight.” Brian said, mentally kicking himself for how lame he must have sounded.

“Yeah, all sorts of unexpected people are showing up.” Justin replied pointedly. 

“You wanna dance?” Brian asked boldly, trying to avoid an uncomfortable silence. “I know you like this song.”

“I do like this song,” Justin stated while switching his previous drink for the fresh one Brian had bought him. “But I think we both know where that would lead.”

“And where is that?” Brian said, trying to sound as naïve as possible.

Justin snorted a laugh at Brian trying to play coy. So, he played along, smiling and nodding his head toward the backroom. Brian raised an eyebrow and gave a sexy grin to the blonde.

“So, I don’t think that is such a good idea. I think it would be ‘for the best’ if we didn’t.” Justin stated, cutting straight to the bone.

Brian held back the wince that he felt inside at the repetition of his previously used phrase of choice.

“Thanks for the drink.” Justin said as he moved away from the bar toward the chain-linked partitions where Tristan had just entered.

Brian watched as Justin greeted Tristan with a hug and a peck on the lips. When Justin whispered something into his companion’s ear, Brian saw the young men look toward him. Tristan smiled and laughed as Justin said something else to him. Brian took a big gulp of his drink and asked the bartender for another one. Then, he thought to himself: If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Try again…


	11. Hope So

* * *

Special thanks to my buddy Exotic for her encouragement with this chapter.

* * *

Justin

I pick my vodka tonic off of the bar and sip it while I wait. I don’t know why I had even agreed to come tonight. I guess because Tristan told me I had to go out and that Daphne’s couch was beginning to develop a permanent dip in it from my ass. So, here I am, bored as hell. I see a few cute guys, but I refrain from returning their glances. I’m just not in the mood right now; I haven’t been in the mood a lot lately. That is the main reason I haven’t been to Babylon in a while. Because hot men make me think of sex and sex makes me think of… 

I am yanked out of my thoughts when Brian walks up to me and I turn to face him. My hearts stops dead in my chest and speeds up right after, seemingly making up for the pause. He smiles at me, he fucking smiles! Then, he off handedly says, “Hey.” How dare he use such a laid-back tone with me, greet me with our usual word? I always translated our simple ‘hey’ as ‘hi, I missed you, I am happy to see you.’ Because that’s what it meant. It was our way of finding a shorthand form to express how much we cared without really expressing it. And now it’s like he’s using it against me. Baiting me into falling into my old cycle of familiarity and… love. He makes my blood boil and I squirm due to my conflicting emotions, but all I can muster is, “Hey.” God, I need fucking help.

“Buy you another?” He asks and I know that he is flirting with me. Shit! He wants me back, he wants me back, he wants me back. What the fuck do I do? Flirt back? Throw the drink I have in his face and tell him to piss off? Melt in his arms and tell him I want him back too? No. I know my line. We have done this before. I smile at him and lift my eyebrow, his patented facial expression of indifference. He motions to the bartender to bring me another one and I take the opportunity to gulp in a deep breath and calm myself, outwardly at the very least.

He turns on the bar to face me and makes an attempt at a normal, everyday conversation. Yeah, like I am just going to let him get away with, “Big crowd tonight.” I am not that daft or easy. But, damn, he looks so good. He got a haircut, I like it. It reminds me of how his hair was when I became a go-go boy, shorter and fucking sexy. The muscles in his arms are hotter than ever. What I wouldn’t give to be wrapped up in them right now. Oh, that’s right. I won’t give my pride, the exact thing that he wants me to forget right now. I have to make him realize that. “Yeah, all sorts of unexpected people are showing up.” I give him a dead stare, challenging his calm, collected manner. He doesn’t falter, instead he asks me, “You wanna dance? I know you like this song.” He is still flirting, very obviously now. And is that a loaded question or what? Do I want to dance? Yes, more than anything I want to dance with him. I only want to dance with him, just him, forever. But, where does our dancing inevitably lead? Fucking, that’s where. And I am not ready to just forgive and forget. He hurt me so badly, that he can’t merely talk to me and expect me to run back to him. I feel terrible for thinking this, but I want to hurt him right back. I want him to feel it too. I want him to have that drop in his stomach when someone turns him down and doesn’t just bend over at the sight of him. 

I choose to answer him as directly as possible. “I do like this song, but I think we both know where that would lead.” Then, when I think I finally have his mood pegged, he starts to act like he does know our history. He pretends that he doesn’t know where our dances lead. Our bodies pressed together, sweat mingling and clinging to our skin, locked eyes, gyrating hips and roaming hands all mixed together to form the most powerful aphrodisiac known to either of us. And he wants to play as if he doesn’t understand where that would take us. I try to hold back a laugh, but it slips out. I let him have his moment of playing dumb and I motion to the backroom with a smile. It is nearly a genuine smile, I find myself becoming very fond of the idea of being fucked senseless by Brian. But, that is to be expected. Of course I miss the sex, yet it is the comfortable and intimate way we behave when together that I miss the most. No sex can compare to the hours and days of lounging, talking, laughing and even arguing that Brian and I shared. And all at once I hate him for depriving me of that again. I don’t even what to be around him because of the memories and the feelings of loss that fill my heart.

He smiles back at me as if I just hit upon his intention. Now, I have more questions in my head. Why does he want me back? For sex? Does he miss anything else but that? Has he really learned his lesson about throwing my love and me away? How long will he pursue me after I turn him down flat? Why does he have to do this? Why does he have this hold over my mind and emotions? Why do I let him? All these thoughts are making me angrier and angrier. So, I let go. I choose to hurt him with my words, the same fashion he chose. “So, I don’t think that is such a good idea. I think it would be ‘for the best’ if we didn’t.” I use his words; spit them back in his face like venom. I want to remind him of the duplicity of his actions. My gaze wanders after he doesn’t reply and I see my savior has arrived. Tristan appears at the entrance and I end our conversation the way he once did. “Thanks for the drink.” 

I walk away before he can say anything. I move toward Tristan. I hug and kiss him, maybe just to twist the knife further into Brian. I wonder when I got so spiteful. I tell Tristan, “I just talked to Brian, he’s by the bar.” We, not so subtly look in Brian’s direction. Then, I confess, “I think he wants me back. I almost pissed my pants I was so nervous.” Tristan laughs at my comment and pulls me onto the dance floor. He smiles warmly at me and says, “Do you think he’s for real?” “I hope so.” I really do hope so...


	12. Up Here

Brian

Okay, so that didn’t work as well as I hoped. I don’t know what I hoped for really, or even what I was expecting. But, his turning me down only makes me want him more. It is a marvel of the determined mind: That which we can’t have becomes that much more attractive to us. Maybe that is why he kept coming back to me. I push and he’d pull, only harder. Maybe that’s also why I let him back in every time. In a lot of ways he too was forbidden for me, being only seventeen at the time. He was also eager and hungry for me, and everyone wants to be craved that way. Enough intellectualizing. What’s my next course of action? Another game? I mean even I can’t deny that last night at Babylon was a game. But, I would rather think of it as testing the waters. Well, whatever the fuck it was, it was very informative.

He acted cool, detached, and even a little annoyed at my presence. He played it exactly as I would have. I think I taught him too well. But, the best part about knowing someone is being able to detect bullshit and underlying emotions. His collected demeanor gave way and his true desires showed through. When he looked me up and down, then returned my ‘hey’, all I could think was-- he wants me back. But, enough Justin scheming, I have a pitch to give in five minutes. I’ll read over my notes, wow them, and get Ted started on the account billing. I would call myself arrogant if I wasn’t as good as I am. Justin told me once that my determination was only surpassed by my narcissism. Maybe after I get him back I can convince him that statement is actually reversed.

I walk into the conference room with Cynthia. She asks if we need anything and I introduce myself to the head of Riley BBQ Sauce. 

“Hello Mr. Riley, I am so glad that you could meet with us today. I know how busy your schedule is.” 

“I’ve heard great things about your company, Mr. Kinney. I just hope that you can work some of that magic on our profits.” 

“That’s my job, Mr. Riley. Now, you told me on the phone that you have lost a lot of you core customers lately, customers that you have had for years. We think that the new formula and packaging are to blame. What your customer wants isn’t new or improved; it’s the predictable, top quality product that you had always put out. I am usually a man that goes for something flashy and fresh. But, they can get that with their clothes, shoes, cars, etc. In this instance I would recommend returning to your former recipe and similar packaging. Your customers bought your sauce because they enjoyed it. They liked it without showy labels and enhanced flavor. Those customers will return if you give them the product they have had in the past. Then, you could come out with a different line of flavors and play around with those to see which sells the best. For the marketing itself, we would do print and television ads stating: “Come back to the best sauce you’ve ever had-- Riley’s Original BBQ”. As you can see in the boards shown, we would emphasize the return to the previous recipe to call those old customers back. The different line of flavors will lure in the new customers. But, your core customers will be satisfied again and the customer loyalty will be restored.” I take a breath, realizing that everything I just said is directly connected to Justin. And now I know how to get him back. I have to offer him what he wants… me, just me. 

“I like it, Mr. Kinney. You have hit on all my concerns, I am sure that we will bring our profits back up. Have your men draw up the papers and I’ll sign.”

“Happy to have you on board. You can talk to my accountant, Ted Schmidt, about the paperwork.” I shake his hand and usher Ted into the conference room. We both sign on all the dotted lines and we say our goodbyes. 

I landed one account this week, now on to my toughest client, Justin. If only he could understand what is going on in my mind. I have to find a way to show him that. He NEEDS so to know what’s going on up here…


	13. You Too

Justin walked out of his class and went to the vending machine to grab a snack before he headed off campus. When he rummaged around in his messenger bag for loose change felt his cell phone vibrate, signifying that he had a message. He reached into his pack and removed the phone then dialed his voicemail. He had two messages, the first was from his mom who had been practically begging him to come over to dinner this weekend. He deleted the message, but made a mental note to call her back later. When the second message began his breath caught as his lungs constricted when he heard Brian’s voice.

“Hey. Umm… I packed up the rest of your things if you want to come by tonight to pick them up. I’m sure that you need your computer and uhh… anyway, I’ll be home at seven to let you in. Later.”

Justin stood completely still for a minute, looking a lot like the statues he had just been studying in his Grecian Art class. He hit replay two more times before he put the phone away. When the shock of the voicemail itself wore off he wondered what it meant. Had Brian given up his quest to win him back after only one rejection? Did Brian have an ulterior motive for wanting him to come by? Was this just another twist in the plot of the ongoing drama that is their relationship? Only one way to find out, he reasoned as he hurried to catch the bus to Daphne’s apartment. 

At 7:07pm, Justin rang the buzzer to the loft, something he hadn’t done since he was seventeen. Part of him wished that he hadn’t given Brian back his key until all his things were moved out so he didn’t have to be this frazzled. He was buzzed up without a word through the intercom. It was odd that Brian didn’t say anything, but he knew that Brian was half expecting him at this time. Justin decided to take the elevator; he was already so nervous that he was having trouble breathing regularly, so the stairs would have simply made it worse. The door was opened a crack already so he let himself into the loft. He looked around and spied his stuff neatly packed up near the dining table. The loft looked the same, except for two things: a new computer desk and no Brian. Figuring that Brian basically wanted him to take his stuff and leave, Justin went over the boxes, picked one up and turned to go to the door. He turned just in time to see Brian emerge from the bathroom. Brian was wearing dark wash blue jeans with the top button undone, but nothing else. His bare chest glistened from the water that clung to his skin after his shower that had taken place a minute or two ago. 

“Hey.” Brian said plainly, trying not to sound nervous or excited at the fact that Justin had to decided to show up.

“Hey.” Justin returned, trying not to look at Brian’s half naked body. However, his eyes seemed to have a mind of their own as they roamed the exposed flesh.

“Glad you came.” Brian regretted it the second it was coming out of his mouth, but he kept calm and acted as if he had meant to say it aloud.

The words made Justin’s eyes snap up to meet Brian’s. But, he figured he better not let himself get too hopeful, this was Brian after all.

“Yeah, sorry my stuff has been taking up room for so long.” Justin shifted the box to his hip and turned again to go.

“Yeah, no, I mean, that’s not why I’m glad you came.” Brian said sincerely, not caring how he sounded at this point.

“Oh?” Justin asked, stopping dead in his tracks and twisting his body in Brian’s direction once more. 

“I wanted to tell you something.” Brian was attempting to muster up all the courage he had to say what he knew he needed to say.

“And what is that?” Justin questioned with a slightly bitter tone as he shifted the box again, this time to his other hip.

“Put that down, would ya?” Brian asked as he motioned to the box. 

Justin set it down on the floor next to him and crossed his arms across his chest waiting for Brian to continue.

“Well?” Justin prompted impatiently.

When Brian didn’t say anything, Justin reached for the box again and headed for the door.

“Wait.” Brian said with a hint of desperation in his voice.

Justin halted, never remembering Brian sounding quite so anxious. He placed the box on the hardwood floor for the second time and walked toward Brian. Justin looked at him with honest, caring eyes. For Brian, that was enough to get him to start talking.

“I used to think that I was too much— like I had too much that I wanted so I would never be satisfied, or even be still for a second. I thought that I had too much for just one person to deal with. And now I realize that I am in actuality, lacking. I don’t have enough of all the things that you deserve. I can’t offer you monogamy, or full time contentment or promises about happily ever after. All I have to offer is… me. And I am doing that now, offering myself to you.” Brian held his breath, waiting for the reaction that he just couldn’t gage.

“You said yourself that we weren’t very happy together. Why should we go back to making each other unhappy?” Justin asked with tears glistening in his eyes. 

Justin wanted to badly to leap into Brian’s arms and tell him he accepted, but what about the pain? He couldn’t simply let Brian off the hook with a nice speech—they had real problems and he couldn’t be sure that Brian really meant what he had said.

“But, that’s life, peaks and valleys. Sometimes I’m fucking miserable when we’re together, but then again… I’m that way when you’re not around too. And if I have to choose to live my life with or without you… I choose with. But this time, it’s not my choice. I made my decision to split up and that was unfair of me. So, this one is yours.” Brian explained with a shrug, giving the next move to Justin.

“You still don’t get it, do you, asshole? This isn’t about you or me, it’s about us. If we are partners, it’s OUR decision, OUR choice.” Justin clarified in an exasperated, yet passionate voice.

Brian was quiet for a second, letting Justin’s words sink in. After a long moment, he spoke very softly.

“I chose you.” Brian said raising his eyes to meet Justin’s.

“I chose you too.”


	14. Between Us

Brian

The words come out of my mouth in a whisper. I know that I have to tell him in whatever way I can that I want him with me. 

“I choose you.” 

I don’t really think that I hear his response until he gives me a half smile as a tear rolls down his cheek.

“I choose you too.” He says in a strong voice.

He has such conviction in his tone and I find myself jealous of his confidence. I am usually extremely confident, cocky even, but when it comes to emotional purging, I am totally unsure. I get almost panicked when I realize what information I have just divulged to him. I handed him all my weaknesses, shortcomings and frailty on a silver platter. I feel so vulnerable right now. I can’t remember a time when I felt this exposed. I think I can even feel my head drop down in shame. He must have read that in my face because he puts his hand on my chin and raises it until our eyes meet. His gaze is warm and inviting, but most importantly, forgiving.

“Promise not to tell.” He states with a smile, the whole time reading me like a book.

I nod my head and huff out a laugh. He warps his arms around my waist and rests his head against my bare chest. It is amazing to have him back in my embrace. His warm body pressing against me, while he breathes in soft sighs on my skin.

“Well, I better go.” He says pulling away from me.

I don’t let him loose immediately, I hold his arms at the elbow so he cannot escape. 

“Why?” I ask astonished.

“Because I need to go home and finish up some stuff for school and…” 

“This is your home, Justin. I thought that we were on the same page; we want to be together.” The confusion I show outwardly doesn’t compare to the bewilderment I feel inside. 

“We are on the same page, but I need to go and get some stuff figured out before I jump back into… well, us.” He shrugs his shoulders and looks down.

“Are you seeing someone else? Is that why you won’t stay with me?” I ask, not thinking before I blurt it out.

He yanks his arms away from my grasp and runs his fingers through is hair.

“What?” He asks in a perplexed voice.

“Are you with someone else?” I ask again.

“Jealously doesn’t become you, Brian.” Anger is hanging on his words and I know that I have struck a nerve. 

“I’m not jealous, you have the right to see someone. We weren’t together. I just wanted to know.” I am back peddling, trying to get us back into one another’s arms.

“No, I am not with anyone. Why would you think that?” He says plainly.

“Well, I saw you with the same guy at the diner and at Babylon, I just figured…” I don’t know where I’m going with this, I’m sorry that I even brought it up.

“He’s a friend.” His arms cross over his chest again as he looks me dead in the eye. 

“I see. So, why is it that you won’t stay?” He is holding something back and I have to know what it is.

“I told you, there are some things that I need to figure out…” I cut him off quickly.

“What is there to figure out Justin? I don’t get it, what is it that you need me to say or do to prove to you that I want you here?” 

“Try not throwing me out every time you get scared about where we’re headed, or just watching me leave when I question our relationship, or letting me in to whatever the fuck you have going on in that head of yours!” He is near screaming now and I am more taken aback than I was a second ago. But his raised voice put me on the defensive so I fire back.

“I am trying to do that! Can’t you see?! I want you here. I miss you. Is that what you want me to say?” 

“I want you to tell me the truth! I want you to be open to me; don’t shut down! Don’t shut me out! Fight for me! Why don’t you ever fight for me!” His shouting is interrupted by sobs near the end of his response. 

I just stare, afraid to reach out to him. He must feel as vulnerable as I did a minute ago. He is a little more used to it, but no one likes to be in that position. I am stumped. I don’t have anything to say. My brain is locked and my mouth is dried up. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to comfort him, to reassure him. So, I tell him the first thing that does come to mind.

“If you think that you have to go then, do it. But, just know that I haven’t given up on you, on us. I will fight for us, to whatever end.” I didn’t know that I could sound like a fucking romantic poet, but apparently I can. 

The sentiment would usually make my stomach turn or my dick go soft, but what I said was true. I have always believed in the truth, reveled in it. So, I am finally being honest about my feelings and intentions toward Justin, and it makes me feel free.

He looks up at me again, this time his weepy eyes filled with pride. He is proud of me. How fucking sad is that? A twenty-one year old being proud of a thirty (something) year old man for emotional honesty.

“Thank you.” He tells me as he takes a step closer.

I don’t know exactly what it is that I said that got me a foot nearer to him, but I’ll take it.

“Come on, kiss me you big softy.” A smirk plays on his face and I know that we are home free, for now.

I nearly run toward him and wrap my hand around his neck. I pull him into a passionate kiss that would rival any epic movie or long awaited homecoming. In this moment, not even the most powerful force on earth could come between us.

* * *

Author's Note:  
A lot of people thought that I let Brian off too easily so, I added a little more drama to the mix! Let me know if you like it or hate it!

* * *


	15. Welcome Home

Justin

When his lips capture mine I feel my knees go weak. He literally takes my breath away as his tongue sweeps inside my mouth. He tastes so good, so familiar. I want to be fierce and take charge of the kiss, but my muscles won’t cooperate. I give up my futile quest to dominate and melt instead. My heart, my worries, my deepest fears just melt away in Brian’s embrace. When he pulls away from me I can feel his hot exhale on my face, I still can’t breathe yet myself. 

He seems to notice because he says, “Breathe, Sunshine.”

And I do.

He looks me in the eye and smiles then, he learns in really close and nips my ear lobe. 

“Welcome home, Justin.” He murmurs in my ear before he rushes in for another kiss.

I’m not sure if he means home to the loft, our relationship or just to his arms. And I couldn’t give a fuck because Brian finally said the right thing. It took almost five years, but he said the thing I needed to hear. Most likely he doesn’t even realize what he said that got me to show my gratitude. He didn’t seem to care; his kisses are so fevered, so urgent. To some people, it wouldn’t be a huge deal but Brian said ‘us’. I know that isn’t a great declaration of love and commitment. However, in Brian Kinney speech, it was. He finally understands that he not only wants our relationship to survive, he wants it to thrive. 

Before I can think another thought, his hand is undoing my fly. I moan into his mouth when his fingers find my flesh. I pull my lips away and rest my forehead on his shoulder as he strokes me. I can’t squelch the little sighs and whimpers that escape my throat even though I’m biting my bottom lip.

When my need for more becomes too great, I stop his hand. That causes his eyes to find mine. I can tell he is slightly confused by my ceasing his motions. 

“Fuck me now.” I say softly, sexily. 

He smirks and his eyes twinkle with excitement and anticipation. We make our way to the bedroom and this is where time stops. I begin unbuttoning his jeans and pull them down his legs. He waits until the material is pooled at around his ankles then steps out of them. He whips my shirt off over my head and tosses it away. My pants are a mere memory; I don’t even feel them come off. Then, his lips meet mine again. My lust rises even higher than I thought it could. Our bodies are pressed together so tightly that I can feel his heartbeat through his and my skin. 

 

We collapse onto the bed and tumble around, kissing, clutching and searching. I move a little too close to the edge of the mattress and he grabs me around the waist so I won’t fall. We both begin to laugh and roll to the center of the bed. I am pinned beneath him, his weight heavy on my chest. We stare at each other again, memorizing every feature, freckle and line. I forgot how fun sex with Brian is. Yes, it is carnal and lustful. Yes, it is significant and meaningful. But, the reason we fuck so much is because above everything else, it is fun. We laugh and pinch, wrestle and tickle, tease and giggle. It is my most amusing part of day. I can relax and be comfortable with one of my best friends. And there is nothing I would rather do than lay in bed with Brian. 

After a full minute of scrutinizing each other’s faces, we both come to the conclusion that there were no real changes in our appearances. The only difference between the last time we saw each other is that we both have smiles that won’t stop coming. I can feel his erection against my leg, leaking freely. It makes me hornier and I want him immediately.

“Come on.” I prompt.

He leans over me, picking up a condom and some lube. I put the rubber on him as he opens me up. We both groan in pleasure at the mutual touching. He lifts my legs to his shoulders and enters me. His once freshly washed skin forms a thin layer of sweat that drips onto my chest, searing against my hot form. Once his is fully buried inside of me I whisper, “Welcome home, Brian.” Welcome home...


End file.
